Friday, August 26, 2016

For a Few Wandas More: Wanda Poems By Tyler Pruett

Tyler Sherwood Pruett is a writer and artist with a special interest in short forms of poetry, as well as creative nonfiction. His work has appeared in many prestigious journals such as Modern Haiku and Frogpond, as well as important anthologies including Haiku 21 by Modern Haiku Press, and a fear of dancing by Red Moon Press. He is the author of Blue Wolves Are Howling Grapefruit Orange, a collection of poems selected from over a decade of published work in poetry journals, and A Refutation of Exile with Red Moon Press, a themed collection of Threshold Art poems. Tyler is currently working as a professional writer, and as a graduate student at Johns Hopkins University.FOR A FEW WANDAS MOREAccording to the OrderA secret WrightBrother named WandaRemains alive -He faked his deathAnd stole a hypersonic jetTo soar uninhibitedThrough hysterical ozoneOf dazeish machinationsAnd mirages of bakingDesert clay therein -By night the OrderCommands brass bulletCasings primed with talcumPowder and lintTheir sponge fists wrappedLoosely with used fabricSoftening sheetsThe plumes of downyCotton balls loadedInto a velvet cannonAnd shot in your generalVicinity -The Order intends to cut you deepOr cause a fiber rash or worse(Their vampire fangs bluntedAnd covered with suppleAmbrosia bootsMay cause light red marksOn your neck) -The Order can hurt youAnd hurt you badAnd you’ll never feel it -They’ll pile pinkPopcorn packagingUp over your headUntil you disappear -They’ll force you to runYour hands vigorouslyThrough raspberry bushesAnd you’ll probably getSome splinters -The Order has you whereThey want youSquinting like an idiotAt letters on the wall -The Order wants youAlive and dead like WandaBreathing your last breathForever so you never dieAnd the oxygen neverRuns out -This is their scheme:A passive murderThat never reallyTranspires

THE CHIFFONIAN ANALECTSYellow heavenGolden cakesOscillateUpWhen the sevenFires riseGurgling black bloodSpatteredOn her whiteSmoke blazer -WandaOf the corn strutsBare ass down the sidewalkFlying a CornsilkPonchoLike a damn sail -ThereinWanda bat grapplesWith the illegalityOf joint-likeCigarettesOr clipsFor no fixed termsShall be toleratedIn limboOf the port city -The clean portBlazesNougat hallucinationsMere illusionsAnd nothing less -None point to non-truthNor against false truthNor in good mindOf the false truthNon truthLie -False in the senseThat chummy grassGrows back overAnd over againAfter being mowedFrequentlyAnd never dies -The mayor mowsHis own lawnHisselfWieldingInterstellar overdriveWhile he takes a shotOf BulleitAnd considers hisselfLucky to escapeCrucifixion